


A Cure For Sorrow

by within_a_dream



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7358467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/pseuds/within_a_dream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Grantaire sees Courfeyrac's friend Pontmercy wandering around a tavern like a lost lamb, he can't resist taking him home. This is either the worst idea he's had in some time, or the best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cure For Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for Les Mis Rare Pairs Week 2016, and it has gorgeous companion art by Boots on Tumblr [here!](http://bootsssss.tumblr.com/post/146756240979/collab-with-withinadream27-for-rarepairs-week)

Grantaire knew which pubs his friends frequented, and which he should drink at if he wanted to keep from meeting anyone he knew. Tonight, he wanted to get drunk and  avoid conversation, so he was puzzled (and a bit displeased) when he saw that Bonapartist friend of Courfeyrac’s sitting at the bar. Grantaire’s curiosity outweighed his desire for solitude, and he sat down next to the man.

“You’re the stray Courfeyrac’s taken in, aren’t you?”

Marius started at Grantaire’s words, and his expression (already dark) grew even more sour. “I am.”

Even with his face twisted into a scowl, Marius still looked like a sculpture given flesh. His pout exaggerated the fullness of his lip, and Grantaire couldn’t help but imagine how those lips (already red as sin) might look kiss-swollen and parted in pleasure.

He had next to no chance of seeing that, but he might manage to draw a smile out of Marius’s despondency. “You’re not still upset over your night with the ABC? Combeferre would skewer his own mother if she came to the Musain singing Napoleon’s praises—and he’s quite fond of his mother. I’ve had far worse tongue-lashings, and they continue to tolerate my presence.”

To his dismay, tears began to pool in Marius’s eyes. Grantaire pushed his mug away, trying not to dwell on how beautiful his eyes looked, even crying.

“You shouldn’t drink on a heavy heart.” He nearly gagged on his own bullshit, hating himself a little for how much he found himself wanting to fuck this boy.

Marius looked at him, lower lip wobbling. “I paid my last franc for that, and I can’t go back to Courfeyrac like this.”

Grantaire put a hand on Marius’s knee, trying very hard to appear brotherly. Judging by the hint of red that came to Marius’s cheeks, he hadn’t succeeded. “Walk with me.”

Marius followed him out of the tavern like a lost puppy. Once they reached the street, Grantaire took his arm. Marius didn’t talk, which gave Grantaire all too much time to stare at his perfect red lips and the way his black hair swept across his forehead. God, he was a work of art.

They turned down an alley, and Marius leaned into Grantaire’s side just a bit too close to be merely friendly, and Grantaire stopped giving a fuck about the consequences. He pinned Marius to the wall, kissing the surprise from his mouth.

Marius melted into him, returning the kiss like he’d been alone for so long that he’d fallen out of practice. But despite his sloppiness, Marius’s enthusiasm was endearing. He rested a hand on Grantaire’s hip, light enough that Grantaire barely felt it, and leaned back against the wall, letting out a quiet moan.

Grantaire pulled away. “We ought to go back to my rooms. They’re not much, but they have a bed and a distinct lack of curious onlookers.”

“I couldn’t offer that much,” Marius said, sounding dazed. Grantaire, remembering a half-forgotten conversation with Courfeyrac, pictured the poor man lying on a mattress on the floor, listening to the sounds of one of Courfeyrac’s conquests (which, from Courfeyrac’s conversations with the ABC, Grantaire knew had occurred). No wonder he kissed like a drowning man.

Grantaire should have been embarrassed by how difficult it was to keep his hands off of Marius during the walk to his rooms. Marius’s adorable blushes made it even harder, and by the time they reached the privacy of his apartment, Marius’s arousal was quite obvious through his trousers. (Not that Grantaire’s lust looked any less obvious.) He leaned in to kiss Marius—who stumbled into Grantaire’s arms as he tripped on an empty bottle, sending it sliding across the floor.

As nice as he found the feeling of Marius’s face pressed to his chest, Grantaire wished he’d thought to clean the garbage off the floor. Then again, if he tidied up every night on the off chance a beautiful man would come home with him, he would live in a very neat and very lonely room.

The way Marius looked at him through lowered eyes, nervously biting his lip, distracted Grantaire from his thoughts. He guided Marius to his bed—perhaps a little roughly, but Marius didn’t seem to mind—and pinned him down, beginning to undo the ties on his trousers. Grantaire bent his head to kiss the blush spreading across Marius’s cheeks, moving his hand to grasp Marius’s cock.

The gasp that followed was very gratifying. Marius grasped at the quilt with his fingers, arching up into Grantaire’s hand. Grantaire gave his length a few strokes, laughing a bit at the moan Marius gave in response.

“You’d think this was the first time someone had gotten you off.”

Marius froze, looking at Grantaire with something akin to panic. “I haven’t…”

Inwardly, Grantaire groaned. He might have reconsidered this night had he known he would be deflowering a virgin. Outwardly, he tried to give Marius a reassuring smile. “You’ve come home with the right man, then.”

Judging by Marius’s reactions, he could have snuck off with a student of the convent and called it the best night of his life. Perhaps Grantaire should sleep with more virgins. He’d only just reached a hand up to toy with Marius’s nipple, running the thumb of the other over the head of his cock, when Marius spent himself with a muffled curse.

Grantaire pressed a kiss to his chest. “You’re beautiful like this.”

“Please, allow me to repay the favor.” Even breathless from pleasure, Marius sounded over-formal. “I do know  _ something _ of how this is supposed to go.”

Grantaire grinned and sat himself at the edge of the bed, spreading his legs. “Of course.”

There was something endearing about Marius’s inexperience. Perhaps one shouldn’t think of one’s partner as endearing, but Grantaire could find no other word for the way Marius looked wide-eyed up at him from his position on the floor, or the way he delicately pressed his lips to the head of Grantaire’s cock.

Despite his initial hesitance, it seemed Marius did indeed have some idea of how this was supposed to go. His enthusiasm far made up for the occasional scrape of teeth. Grantaire ran his fingers through Marius’s hair, enjoying the sight of perpetually straight-laced Pontmercy losing his composure. Grantaire would be hard-pressed to say which he enjoyed more, the feel of Marius’s mouth around his cock, or the look of unfocused joy on his face.

One thing to be said for taking a virgin to bed was that one could avoid feeling shame over spending oneself embarrassingly early, or being brought to the point of incoherence by getting sucked off. Grantaire did try to warn Marius before he spent himself, but Marius seemed determined to swallow him down.

Grantaire wiped the spend from Marius’s lip, and gestured for Marius to join him on the bed.

“Did I do all right?” Marius looked so nervous that Grantaire couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You were wonderful.” He kissed Marius, only then noticing that his cock was once again hard against his stomach. “Would you like me to take care of that?”

Marius bit his lip and nodded. Grantaire sprawled across the bed and took Marius in his mouth, shocking the nervousness off of his face. He explored Marius with his tongue, finding the places that made him gasp with pleasure and curl his fists in Grantaire’s hair hard enough to hurt. Grantaire stroked one hand over the base of Marius’s cock, rested the other on his thigh, and tried not to feel too proud that Marius spent himself faster than Grantaire had.

Grantaire sat beside Marius, leaning against the headboard and putting an arm around him.

“Oh my god,” Marius murmured, leaning on Grantaire’s side.

“Like I said, I’m your man.”

Marius murmured something unintelligible in response, eyes drifting shut. Grantaire kissed his forehead and curled up, listening to his breathing. His lovers didn’t tend to spend the night, but it would be the height of impropriety to throw Marius out onto the street at this hour. Knowing him, he’d get lost on his way back to Courfeyrac’s. Much safer to let him sleep the night beside Grantaire.


End file.
